dark nights
by tatty ted
Summary: AU. The biggest battle is against your own mind. - —Charlie/Baz/OC. /Two-parter, can be triggering.
1. CHAPTER I

**notes** — so this is set during series 11 because i'm addicted to that series at the moment. because lauren's only meant to be eleven, i've changed her age by three years so she's fourteen instead, understood?

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**dark nights,**  
_i wanted you to be there._

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Her back's against the brick wall, her knees to her chest. She rocks backwards and forwards and backwards again, taking in her surroundings. She notices the street light isn't working properly and it's flicking wildly.

She notes that the floor's damp and she doesn't know if she's cold because of that or the weather, or the fact she's in shock. She should leave, go home. Her parents, they'll be worrying about her, she said she'll be back home for tea.

She wraps her jacket around her tighter, still rocking forwards and backwards. Her makeup's run down her face, her mascara leaving black track marks down her face and her lipgloss has been smudged around her face.

She takes a deep breath when she sees the outline of a figure. She holds her breath as the person comes nearer. She wonders if it's him, back to carry out his threat of killing her. The footsteps go away and she breaths out in relief.

The figure stops and turns around. It walks towards her, "Hello?"

He's not the man who hurt her, he's northern like her. The other man, he was Irish. She whispers; "Go away!"

She sees a light possibly from a torch or something similiar and he shines it on her. He gasps when he sees the woman — girl — sat in a pile of her own blood, rocking backwards and forwards. He kneels beside her and goes to touch her.

She flinches. He realises she's been attacked.

"Can I call an ambulance for you?" She shakes her head, her breathing becomes erratic, her chest feels tight. The whole thought of going to hospital freaked her out. She'd have to explain what happened and then her parent's would be told.

She won't be able to lie.

Her chest feels tighter, she can't breath. Oh God, she thinks she's going to die. She tries to regain control of her breathing but she can't. The man calls an ambulance, worried about the young girl. All Lauren can think of is her breathing, she needs to breathe before she passes out.

(She needs to breathe, she needs to breathe.)

/

Cubicle fourteen, alone. Her breathing's returned to normal, she's had what the Doctor called a panic attack. She's relieved her father isn't working. How could she explain to him what had happened?

She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear and stands up. She needs to leave, she has no choice. She opens the curtain, steps out, keeps her head down and leaves. Her parents, they'll be worried about her. They wouldn't let her out of their sight again.

/

The scratching of the key alerts Baz that Lauren's home. She pushes herself up off the chair, heavily pregnant and waddles her way to the door. The figure steps into the hall, her head down and closes the door.

"Lauren?" She doesn't have time to react before she's pulled into a hug, "Thank God you're safe, I thought something terrible had happened!" Baz runs her fingers through her daughter's hair and Lauren feels guilty.

She puts her hands on her mother's bump, feeling the outline of the baby and wonders if it's a boy or a girl. Would she have a brother or a sister? She didn't want her mother to worry about her, she was a big girl she could look after herself.

"Sorry mum, I went to Emma's and we watched a film. I didn't realise the time."

She tries to move, to get past her mother without having to answer any other questions. It doesn't work because Baz senses she's got something to hide and puts a hand on her wrist and holds her. Lauren stares at her mother for a second.

There's a bruise on her cheek forming and Baz strokes her cheek, wondering what the hell happened to her little girl, "What happened?"

Lauren laughs, "I'm a complete ditz, I full on head-butted the door." She kisses her mother's cheek, runs up the stairs and into her bedroom. As she slams the bedroom door closed, she jumps onto her bed and cries into her pillow.

She cries for the innocence and the dignity she'd lost.

/

She doesn't sleep, she spends the night tossing and turning. She can feel him on her skin, taste him in her mouth, smell him in the pores of her skin. She wants nothing more than to have a shower and scrub her skin until all trace of him is gone but she can't.

Her parents would be suspicious if they heard the shower running at this time.

She swings her legs out of her bed and heads to the desk in the middle of the room. She takes out a packet of Melbourne Lights and heads to the window. She opens it fully, not wanting the smoke to reach her parent's room across the hall.

She lights the cigarette, leaving it to burn and takes a lungful of the poison. It burns her throat and makes her cough but it's the edge she needs. The distraction from the whole situation she's in. She stares at the night sky, wishing on airplanes like they're shooting stars and wishes —

she could go back a couple fo hours, before she was raped and her life changed forever.

/

She sleeps for all but an hour. She wakes at four minutes past six and has a shower. She scrubs her skin until its dry and cracked. It bleeds and she feels better because at least his scents no longer on her.

She watches the dried blood fall down the drain and she sighs. She doesn't want to go to school, she doesn't want to step foot outside again. She has to pretend everything's normal because it'll only highten her mother's suspicions.

She dresses in her uniform, leaves her hair wavy and walks along the street. She kicks an empty coke can, the can echoing down the street. She fiddles with the bangles on her wrists as she approaches the school gates. She's the only one, the only pupil who's arrived and as she sits on the steps, she knows today's going to be difficult.

It's not difficult, everything's fine. Her friend's keep making her laugh and they're all joking around even though they should be doing their project. She thinks she can put this behind her, she's got her friends and they're all that matter.

One of the lads says something in an Irish accent and it happens, it's the catalyst for diaster.

She feels dizzy, her vision becomes blurred slightly and her chest is really tight. She struggles to breathe, her mind talking her she has to breathe but she can't. She can't breath. She's going to die, shit! She's going to die!

She flashes back. Her mind replying last night like its a film. Scence by scene. Moment by moment. Each touch, each kiss, each smile. She throws up all over her teacher as she's removed from the classroom and taken to the Nurse's office.

/

She's back in hospital. This time it's cubicle thirteen with the dolphins painted on the walls. The same Doctor says she's had another panic attack. He asks about possible triggers but she can't reveal to him she was raped and that everything is a trigger.

He tells her she can return home but not without giving her a leaflet or two on how to deal with panic attacks. She smiles softly, she thinks it might be helpful. That's when she sees him — him (_her rapist_) sat in reception with a young girl.

She cries out, attracting the attention of everyone in reception.

Their eyes meet and she swears he's burning holes into her soul. She remembers being back in that alley, the cold metal to her throat. A man, older than her forcing himself upon her. Her chest, it's tight again and she can't breathe.

—s_hit, shit, shit._

She runs, knocking into a woman with a small child and a cup of coffee from the machine in her hand. It spills onto the woman's white shirt but she doesn't slow down, she can't because he'll catch her. She reaches the woman's toilets and runs into the free cubicle.

She empties the contents of her stomach, sobbing into the rim of the toilet.

This is it. This is the end, he's going to kill her. This was all part of the plan. He found her. Now she's going to die in a pile of her own blood. Her chest, it's tight. She really, really, can't breathe and she's crouched in the corner by the toilet.

She's sick again and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. There's a knock on the cubicle door and she flushes the chain. She tries to breathe, tells herself; (it's okay, you're safe, he's not going to kill you.)

"Lauren, are you okay?"

She steps out of the cubicle, her makeup's run down her cheeks. The mascara tears and the smudged lipgloss and the track marks. The bruise beginning to show on her face, on her cheek and she stares at Jude.

"I'm fine!" She whispers, she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Jude understands, notices, senses even that she isn't okay. There's something troubling the youngster and she wants to know what. She touches her arm,

"Lauren?" There's silence. Jude stares at her and Lauren stares back; "I—" She bursts into tears and falls to the ground. She rocks backwards and forwards, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jude sits beside her, hugging her tightly,

"What's wrong?"

"I—was—raped." She sobs, Jude justs holds her, whispering soothing words at her.

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**jottings** — if you like it enough to favourite/alert, please leave a review:3


	2. CHAPTER II

ϟ

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**CHAPTER TWO**.  
_for a moment, i am happy._

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— _"make a sound and i'll kill you."_

_she feels the chill of the metal as he presses it against her throat. she bites her lower lip as his left hand roams down her body. she closes her eyes, she tries to concentrate on pretending that she's somewhere else._

_a beach, she's on a beach. the sky's bright blue, the sea's bright blue too. the beach is yellow and the sand's warm and it's beautiful. she's walking along the beach chasing her brother, (yes he's been born and he's roughly three)_

_she catches him, she —_

_she cries out in pain as the knife sticks further into her throat. it cuts the skin slightly, causing it to weep. she opens her eyes and bites her lower lip hard as he kisses her neck. He sucks on her flesh as he forces himself on her._

_She cries out again, the pain feeling like knifes stabbing her insides._

_she wants this whole nightmare to be over._

/

She's back in cubicle thirteen, the one with the dolphins. It's meant to provide a calming influence on the patient and Lauren can see that it does. She's alone in the cubicle, back pressed against the wall, knees brought to her chest.

She hugs them tightly, rocking backwards and forwards and backwards again. She pulls her sleeves down, covering the bruises that he inflicted on her as he held her against the wall. She closes her eyes, feeling the tears falling down her cheeks.

She hears them talking about her, discussing what they're going to do. One says they should tell the police, the other says they should inform Charlie. Another says they should respect her confidentiality and not say anything.

Lauren knows it won't be long before her father finds out and that's what scares her most. She doesn't want her father to think she's a slut who brought it on herself. She should've known better than to walk down an alley at _that_ time of night.

She chews her lower lip, tracing the bruises on her cheek and the cut on her throat. She never expected this would happen to her, she always thought she was too — clever for this. She knew not to walk down alleyways at night so why did she that night?

What made that night so different from the others? She swallowed hard, her chest feeling tight again. She struggled to breathe, she put her hands on her chest. All she wants to do is breathe easily but she can't.

"Just breathe, nice and easy." Kate rubs her arm and Lauren tries her hardest to breath, telling herself it's okay because she's not going to die. (he isn't going to hurt her, they won't let him.)

Her breathing returns to normal eventually and Kate goes to leave. Lauren's hand on her arm stops her, "Please don't leave me."

She nods. She won't leave her if that's what she wants. She perches on the edge of the bed, looking at the youngster. She feels sad inside knowing what Lauren had to go through at such a young age.

"Have you spoken to anyone else?"

Lauren leaves the question to linger. Talk to anyone else? No-one was meant to know. This, about her rape was meant to be a secret. It was a secret she was going to take to the grave with her, nobody would ever figure out what he did to her.

She doesn't think she could handle the looks, the whispers, the —

"Don't you think you should?" She swallows. She knows, deep down, she can't pretend this never happened because its already effecting her. The flashbacks, the panic attacks, she can't pretend it didn't happen but she doesn't want others to know. She almost kicked herself when she'd revealed it to Jude in the bathroom.

/

She'd tell her parents, honestly she would but she can't. Her mother's pregnant, the baby's due any day. Her father's flapping about the birth and everything else that goes with it. She doesn't want to cast a cloud over her unborn siblings birth, they're the one who's important.

She thinks, hopes she can tell them after the baby's born but the more she thinks about it, the more she knows there isn't a right time. Imagine the scenario, sitting around the kitchen at breakfast, feeding the baby and Lauren just accidently revealing — _"I was raped."_

Definitely going to go down well, isn't it? Can you imagine it? No, neither can Lauren.

/

"Why didn't you tell me Lauren?" She's lying beside her mother, chewing her lower lip, track marks down her cheeks. She's not the one who's revealed to her parent's what's happened and although at first she was pissed and kicked off, she's grateful.

At least she'd never had to go — (mum and dad, there's something i need to tell you. i was raped.)

She's scared of their reaction, scared if they'd punish her but they don't. They both hug her tightly and whisper that things will be okay. They know they've got a struggle ahead as their only daughter tries to heal.

"Were you going to tell me?" Baz asks. There's a pause. She fiddles with her fingers and shakes her head, "No."

"Why?" There's another pause, Lauren debates with herself on the answer. What could she say? She snuggles further into her mother and whispers that she didn't want her mother to worry in her condition.

Baz sighs and kisses her daughter's temple. She'd always be worried about Lauren, even when she was thirty-odd, married with her own children. It was part of the parcel of becoming a mother, the worry never went away.

"We'll get through this Lauren, I promise." Her mother laces her fingers through hers and she nods. But there's a voice in the back of Lauren's mind that tells her, you shouldn't make promises you weren't sure about. What if they didn't get through this as a family?

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**jottings** — two-parter now finished! sorry it's taken a while:3


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